The Big Idiot President Is Not Getting Himself Impeached On Purpose, C'monDonald Trump is not trying to get impeached. He does not want to be impeached, and he definitely does not have a sophisticated dastardly plot to turn his impeachment into greater personal power or as a strategy to create a more solidified and motivated political base. He does not have a sophisticated dastardly plot to do anything, or any other kind of plot. The man is not capable of sophistication, or any but the basest sensation-seeking dastardliness; it’s all he can do to get the fast food from its cardboard container to the appropriate face-hole. He is a big stupid idiot, is what I am saying, and he likes things that feel good and wants them right now and doesn’t like things that don’t feel good and doesn’t want them ever, and that is the extent of him.
Donald Trump has been portraying himself, accurately, as a degenerate, penny-ante dullard for his entire life. When he opens his mouth, when he talks about himself: “I am a degenerate, penny-ante dullard” is the only thing he can say. When he insists he is actually a tremendously smart man, he is saying “I’m a degenerate, penny-ante dullard.” When he says Buy these fabulous mail-order steaks, really truly high-class steaks, many people, fabulous, do we love them, you hear them saying Trump—big guys, tough, they’re saying—you know, Trump, does he have the best steaks or what, he is saying “I’m a degenerate, penny-ante dullard.” When he makes business decisions, when he makes dinner orders, when he attempts to stand up as normal humans do, when he combs his hair: he has made of himself and of his life a monument to the smallness of his perspective and intellect and character. Because he is a soft, breathless, foam-boned inheritance baby with a brain like a wet saltine cracker, because he has been crippled and made monstrous by money and endless permission and therefore cannot conceive of there being any truth or morality beyond what he wants right now, he never knows that this is what he’s doing and also never will. That’s exactly why it’s the only thing he has ever done.
None of this is a part of some scheme. There is never a scheme. He is not sandbagging. He is not playing four-dimensional chess. Donald Trump is not capable of four-dimensional chess. Put Donald Trump in a thumb war against a department-store mannequin and he will be lucky to escape with a draw. He will call it victory. What’s infinitely depressing is how many of his nominal political opponents will believe him.
The weirdest, saddest, and most unhelpful people, maybe in all the world, are: boomer liberals (like the leadership of the Democratic party, for example) who look upon Donald Trump’s lifelong track record of failing at petty crook shit—doing petty crook shit and not only getting away with it but in many cases declaring his failure a great success, and then being rewarded with greater fame and stature in turn—and insist they are seeing the work of a mastermind, rather than the tides of American life and culture carrying yet another born-rich shit-for-brains white asshole past and above any and all demands and consequences. The idea of Trump is the sucker-ass belief in meritocracy, in hoary old Great Man bullshit, twisted into its most horrible gargoyle incarnation. He’s rich and famous, he’s the president of the country, and therefore it just simply must be the case that he has earned this station for himself, one way or another, via some expression of traits that make him equal to it. He has to be some kind of genius, even if it’s the evil kind. There is no way that a braying worthless dope, a man with no qualities of any kind to recommend him, could have ended up where Trump has ended up.
― shared unit of analysis (unperson), Friday, 24 May 2019 18:54 (four years ago) link